


In Your Hands

by goseaward



Series: One Direction pornlets [4]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4404020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goseaward/pseuds/goseaward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick knows what Harry can take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Hands

"How's that? Too tight?"

Harry moves his legs around, trying to get out of the tie. He can't, but he's still got some freedom, and he's not going numb anywhere or feeling the ropes pinch. "Good," he says. 

"Good," Nick says cheerfully. He gets quieter and more intense once they've actually begun, but right now he's still his usual amiable self, even though he's got Harry naked and trussed up like one of his beloved Sunday roasts. "Arms still okay?"

"Yeah."

Folded in half as he is, ankles and wrists tied to the headboard, arse on display, Harry expects to get fingered first. But Nick goes straight for his cock instead. He closes his fist around the base, wet with lube, and pulls straight up and off, fingers catching at the head of Harry's dick as he goes by. Then he grabs with the other hand and does the same thing. One hand, then the other, over and over—it's far too much to start out with, when Harry hasn't been touched hardly at all yet. Nick doesn't usually start out this strong; he's more of a teaser, the kind who lets them both settle into the right headspace before he moves on to the more involved stuff. This is the opposite, and Harry doesn't mind, exactly, but it's a lot to take. He squirms finally, flexing his back to try to move away from Nick's touch, to get a bit of breathing space. 

Nick sees it—that's one of the things Harry had to learn, that Nick pays a lot of attention to him even when it seems like he's not. He squeezes Harry's cock hard so Harry whimpers and throbs in his grip. But it's somehow easier to handle than the pure pleasure had been. Nick's eyes are on Harry, considering, and after a moment he starts jacking Harry normally. Still too much, but the rhythm of it is easier than the choppy tradeoff between hard stimulation and nothing. 

Before he can settle into it, there are fingers probing around his hole and then one sliding into him. Harry doesn't have time to appreciate how good it feels before Nick finds his prostate, and that's too much, too, in an entirely different kind of way. He can feel the strain of it making his thighs shake where they're stretched up over his belly. He's not worried that Nick's going too fast: they have a long history together, even if they've only been actually together for a few months, and even if Nick has taken the opportunity to raise his game, everything more intense than before and closer to the edge and so, _so_ good. 

Probably the best decision Harry's ever made, picking Nick. Nick knows what Harry can take. He's the only person Harry would trust to see him like this. Harry doesn't have to worry about anything, because he knows Nick will always take care of him first. He guesses that's what everyone's always on about when they say your lover should be your best friend. He hadn't ever understood it before.

Nick's finger slips out of him, leaving Harry feeling slick and open and grasping, empty. Then it's back to the long pulls with alternating hands. Harry's starting to whimper, and Nick looks up to meet his eyes, one long intense stare that makes Harry feel stripped bare and vulnerable. Nick doesn't stop his hands, though, and after a moment he goes back to watching what he's doing, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw on Harry's face.

Harry wants to curl up again, up and away, and it's its own kind of torture to lie there instead, to be yielding and motionless for Nick and whatever Nick wants to do to him. He likes being on display, but it's harder when he doesn't have a choice about it.

"Hmm," Nick says, sounding for all the world like he's trying to find someone's phone number in his contacts, and then switches back to wanking Harry. His fingers delve inside Harry's arse again and his thumb's pressed tight behind Harry's balls this time, massaging as his fingers thrust up more directly. When Harry moans, Nick moves his hand faster on Harry's cock.

It's—it's really—he doesn't know how to process this much happening to him. Relentless and overwhelming, too sharp and good to pay attention to anything else, the stretch in his hamstrings and the friction of the rope on his wrists dulling to nothing in the face of so much stimulation. Nothing's distracting him; everything's magnified. He can't even tell if he's about to come or if it's still a long way off—it's so outside his usual experience that he can only bite his lip and press back against Nick's hands, into Nick's control. And Nick can tell when he does it. He's still staring intently at Harry's groin, but his forehead smooths and he gets those little crinkles around his eyes, like he's smiling. That makes it a little easier for Harry, actually, connects it to something beyond the intensity of everything he's feeling right now.

Nick knows Harry's body as well as Harry does, and it's not long before Harry's riding his cock into the twist of Nick's hand on the upstroke, Nick's thumb harsh on the head of his dick. His hands are so fucking big. "You can come when you want, love," Nick says, still not looking at Harry's face, and it's all Harry needs to hear.

With a low moan, Harry starts to come. Nick dips down and seals his mouth over the head of Harry's cock so he catches the last few pulses, and that's too much too, sudden wet heat and Nick's tongue licking him clean. The aftershocks feel like they run forever.

He expects any number of things once he's done—getting untied, maybe, then left alone to cool down, or watching Nick jerk off on him. And Nick does slick up his cock where it's bobbing hard and red near Harry's thigh. But then Nick rubs Harry's cock where it's softening against his belly, rubs it again harder, traces a finger round the head, blazing sensation running through Harry's body like an electric shock, and not the good kind—and Harry can't help it, he pulls with his arms and tightens his stomach and curls way up, away from Nick.

Implacably, Nick waits until Harry can't hold the position any more, then helps him back down. He doesn't go for Harry's cock again, at least, but he puts his hands into the crooks of Harry's knees and presses down and back, opening Harry up for him—and then his cock's in Harry, huge and hard, unmistakable for anybody else. Harry's always loved the feeling of Nick sliding into him, that first moment of being spread wide, the knowledge that it's Nick's flesh and Nick who's enjoying the way Harry feels. And the expression on Nick's face doesn't disappoint, either, eyes half-closed and mouth at a serious but pleased tilt. Harry could look at it for ages.

Then Nick pulls out halfway and slides back in, and Harry makes a noise that might be a moan or might be a wail, because Nick hit his prostate dead on. And it's not an accident, because he repeats the same thrust over and over. Too much, Harry thinks, but doesn't say. Instead, he squirms on Nick's dick, pinned open with Nick's hands on the backs of his thighs, unable to do anything but take it as Nick fucks into him again and again and lights Harry's whole body up like fireworks. 

Harry loves everything they do together, but there's something about this particular act, the way they can both get off on it, the way it takes some preparation but is always worth it: their own private ritual. And he'll never get over the way his body feels different, like Nick's thick cock is rearranging him into something different, better, new. Takes him apart piece by piece, fits him back together, like Nick's always done with a well-placed word or a shoulder to lean on.

Nick picks up Harry's cock and lets it slap back down. Harry howls and Nick smiles without his mouth again, even as he keeps going. Harry's stopped getting softer—in fact, now that he's paying attention, he realizes he's leaking, belly wet with what's dripping out of him. 

"Such a good boy, staying hard for me," Nick says. He traces one finger up the underside of Harry's cock, making Harry shudder. "Do you want to come ag—"

"No!" Harry says, as quickly as he can. He thinks he'd break into tiny pieces if he had to do that, just shatter from how much it would be.

Nick laughs, but it's shaky. He's getting close, and Harry half wants it to never end and half wants it to be over so he can pull back inside his skin, where it's safer, if less interesting.

"In me," Harry says, though he thinks Nick was probably going to anyway. Nick changes his thrusts, less a full-out assault on Harry's pleasure centres and more the kind of shallow rubbing that must be stimulating him right where he needs, until he pushes all the way in and grunts when he comes. The shaking sets off little answering shivers up Harry's body, and he thinks actually he might have been able to come again, but he's happy enough to be done for tonight, too.

Once he's finished, Nick detaches Harry's wrists and ankles from the headboard and then unwinds the rope, rubs briskly over the faint red marks and then lies down, drawing two fingers back and forth slowly on the back of Harry's hand whilst he comes down. It's just right: anchoring but not overwhelming.

When he rolls to the side to look at Nick, he realizes Nick's been watching his face. If Harry didn't know him so well he probably wouldn't be able to detect the touch of uncertainty in his expression. "That okay?" Nick says.

"Yeah, good," Harry says. "Still a bit squishy," he adds, just to watch Nick's eyes go hot and satisfied. He rolls forward to hug Nick and, Christ, he's still so sensitive it takes his breath away.

Nick kisses the top of his head, then lets him roll back to his side of the bed. Amazing, how well they fit, how much the things Harry wants are exactly what Nick wants to give him. "Best decision," Harry says to himself.

"Hmm?" Nick says, but he doesn't push it. 

Yeah. Best ever.


End file.
